The Universe Is Our Playground
by CornGold
Summary: ...But We Could Just Move To Gotham. In which the Master bothers the Rani one too many times with his schemes to get the Universe--and the Doctor's attention--and she finally Does Something About It. One-shot crack!fic, Doctor/Master pairing implied.


The Universe Is Our Playground...But We Could Just Move To Gotham

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I own nothing, per usual.

At some point I had a million excuses for my writing this, but I can't remember most of them now...I'll just say that I happened upon a copy of _The Killing Joke _over the holidays, thought, "wow, this is reminiscent of much of the end of DW S3," and then decided I had to turn this brilliant insight into a fic. _Then _I decided I needed to share it with ffdotnet. Erm, yeah...here endeth the disclaimer/apology.

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When the Master arrived in his TARDIS and demanded her help in his latest scheme, the Rani finally lost her patience. She took hold of his arm, startling him out of his monologue (which had included diabolical plans for universal domination, some rather demented cackling, and a few not-so-casual references to the Doctor), and dragged him into the next room. He'd barely had a chance to protest before she pushed him into a chair, handed him a copy of _Batman_, and barked "Shut up and read it." There was silence as the Master stared down at the comic in his hands, looking both horrified and confused, and then he slowly opened it. The Rani closed the door behind her and went back to her experiments.

Twenty minutes later the door opened and the comic landed in front of her with a resounding "thwack."

"Well?"

"Well?" she echoed. "What did you think?"

"Absurd human nonsense," the Master said dismissively, looking annoyed. The Rani wondered whether he'd figured it out.

"True." She shoved the comic aside and continued her notes.

"Why ask me to read it?" he demanded. "The whole thing is—ridiculous. A ridiculous premise with an even more ridiculous plot. A man dresses up as a bat to fight crime, and a clown repeatedly tries and fails to kill him. Absurd."

"That's what I've always thought," she agreed vaguely.

"Why ask me to read it, then?" he repeated, crossing his arms in a gesture he probably hadn't meant to look quite so defensive.

"I thought you might find it easy to relate to." She was unable to hide a smirk.

The Master's face turned a pretty shade of puce. Oh, he _had _figured it out. "What's your point?"

The Rani put down her pen and gave him a look that said, "_Duh_." The Master blushed harder, his expression mutinous. "Shall I draw more parallels?" she asked. "The Batman flies around with a sidekick, who is much younger than he, rather annoying, always needs saving, and yet never manages to be killed. The hero fights for so called 'good,' yet in doing so blunders in, disregards the law, and lets the proper authorities deal with the mess he leaves behind afterwards. The city is full of so-called 'super villains,' yes, but while dangerous enough in their own right, the Joker considers himself the Batman's arch-nemesis. There's even," she added, retrieving her pen and going back to her work, "a 'super-villain' who'd like nothing better than to be left to conduct his scientific experiments in peace, and I find myself feeling increasingly sympathetic toward him." She glanced at him pointedly. The Master was glaring at the floor, looking both annoyed and embarrassed.

"I don't wear purple," he muttered finally.

The Rani threw her pen down again and briefly weighed the emotional benefits against the physical discomforts of tearing her hair out. "Yes, it would clash horribly with the colour your face has gone," she snapped. He looked offended at that, but she continued before he could say anything, moving around her desk to take his arm again and lead him toward his TARDIS. "Look, I've already pointed this out to the Doctor—"

"You _what_?"

"—yes, and he blushed and stammered and looked generally embarrassed and miserable—"

"Miserable?"

"Probably at the realization that his life resembles a graphic novel. And then he said he was off to Aldebaran Three—"

"Aldebaran _Three_...?"

"—to have a drink or ten. _Now_, if you would like to disprove my theory, run off after him, buy him that drink, and for Rassilon's sake just tell him you're crazy about him and live happily ever after together—"

"But—"

"—before I decide I simply can't handle _your_ obsession, _his_ denial, and the shared sexual tension any longer, and strangle you both out of regenerations. Well?"

"...Right." Looking rather dazed, the Master turned and pulled open his TARDIS door, then paused. "But, what if he—?"

"Oh, for the love of Time! Sit down with him, get him tipsy, jump on him and snog his face off, and the next morning simply look as innocent as you can and then suggest knocking about the universe together for all eternity, in a TARDIS disguised as a cottage with a white picket fence, as though the idea's only just occurred to you. He won't be able to resist."

The Master blinked, then visibly pulled himself together, snorted and stuck his nose in the air, and turned back to his TARDIS. The Rani went back to her experiments with a sigh of relief.

_Free at last!_

As his TARDIS faded from the room, she spared a quick, grateful "thank you" for whatever forces had kept the Master from thinking to ask just why, exactly, she'd just happened to have _Batman _comics lying around in the first place, as she hadn't ever managed to think up a suitably dignified excuse.


End file.
